Red Carpet Romance
by Ms. Selly
Summary: AU Buffy Summers, step-daughter of media mogul Rupert Giles has adjusted to life in the spotlight. But when she plays host to 4 stars from the UK...things get turned upsidedown. (Eventual Spuffy)
1. Part 1

Red Carpet Romance

Part 1

Soundtrack: (I almost always listen to music while I write. Doesn't necessarily relate to the story, but thought you might be interested.) Full of Grace, Sarah McLachlan

**"Rupert Giles, head of Magic Box Productions,"** the image of a distinguished-looking older man with glasses appeared on the screen. "Ethan Rayne of Chaos Records." He was replaced by another man with a fiendish smile, only to be replaced himself by a younger man with a somewhat affected, but very warm expression. "And Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, the head of Hunter Press." The last man disappeared to be replaced with the speaker, a woman with platinum blonde hair and an overly large grin. "Separately, three powerful media moguls, together, they've been called 'The Watcher's Council', because everything we see on television, be it a music video, an interview with an author, or a movie, has come through these men."

She turned as the camera swiveled to a new angle. "For those of you in the know, you know that today is a very special day for one of these men. Who is it?" She paused for a moment, perfect teeth still dazzling, "that's right! It's eight years today since Rupert Giles, everyone's favorite film powerhouse, married unknown divorcee Joyce Summers. It was only a matter of time before Joyce's daughter, the then-ten year old Buffy became a viewer's sweetheart and a beloved fixture at galas and the red carpet."

A few notes of music began, and the girl sitting on the couch with her parents leaned back, squeezing her eyes shut.

"No!" She moaned. "Don't tell me they're going to show the wedding footage. Not the wedding footage!"

But it was the wedding footage. A very pretty young blonde in creamy pink satin stepped, smiling brightly, down the aisle.

"That is so lame. You'd think with all their technology and scheming, they could dig up some other private family video to show." Buffy pouted, shoving a handful of popcorn into her mouth indignantly.

"It's very sad, I think," Giles said, glancing at his wife with a twinkle in his eye, "that it is not enough for Miss Summers that she is on television. She expects them to make her a star. I do believe I've created a monster."  
"You can't take all the blame, Rupert," Joyce smiled, "I think Buffy was a monster before you ever bestowed upon her fame through association."

"Yeah," the teenager said with a mock scowl, "please, talk about me as though I'm not here. I insist."

"Buffy, would you like me to 'leak' some video to the media? Would that make you feel better?" Giles asked, a small smile peeking through his "sympathetic" act.

"Yes."  
Her simple answer drove both her mother and step-father to helpless laughter, and it wasn't long before she herself joined in. Once the giggles had subsided, Buffy sat up and stretched.

"Well, I guess it's time for your anniversary present."

"Oh Buffy," Joyce smiled, "you didn't have to get us anything."  
"I know. But I did. For your anniversary…I'm going to go out for the whole entire evening. Even staying over at the Rosenberg's." The happy couple exchanged confused glances. Buffy nodded encouragingly. "The whole house to yourself. You can do whatever you want. Play Mahjong, or whatever it is that old people do."

"Hey!" Joyce frowned good-naturedly. "Who are you calling old?"  
"You and Giles," Buffy leapt to her feet with a impish grin, and darted out of the expensive mahogany doors, narrowly avoiding a projectile pillow from her "old" mother. "Oh, yeah," she stuck her head back in, still grinning, "I've also got Guillermo slaving away in the kitchen on a special little something. Have a nice dinner."

And she was gone. Joyce and Rupert exchanged another glance, and were once again overcome by laughter.

**"Seriously, though, it's getting really lame,"** Buffy said, stirring her Shirley Temple absentmindedly. "I hate watching that same video clip over, and over, and over."

"You shouldn't have looked so cute in it," Willow Rosenberg shrugged. A powerful techno beat thumped in the background, and there were strobe lights. "Then they wouldn't show it."

"I suppose," Buffy said forlornly. She glanced up and her eyes widened. "Battle stations, Wil." Instantly, her best friend snaked her arm through the arm of her other best friend, Xander Harris, and entwined her fingers with his. She leaned her head on his shoulder.

"I hate this," she murmured, as the undercover photographer who had been sneaking up behind them started shooting pictures.

"Thanks a lot, Wil," Xander said, pretending to be wounded. But Buffy knew he shared the feeling. The two of them were both major movie stars right now, and considered Hollywood's hottest couple. It would be great…except for the part where Willow was gay. Her agent had told her it would be career suicide to come out to the public, so she and Xander played the roles of devoted lovers. Both had to hide their real relationships: Willow's with a shy, young writer, Xander's with a foreign model. Buffy, who often bemoaned her own lack of love life, was still thankful she didn't have to sneak around and hide-in-plain-view from the paparazzi.

"I think he's gone," Buffy whispered, moving her mouth as little as possible.

"Thank god," Willow "nonchalantly" stretched, freeing herself from Xander.

"Now that's what every guy wants to hear," Xander quipped. Willow smiled and rubbed his arm.

"Love you like a brother, honey." Willow leaned back in her chair and surveyed the crowd, looking bored. It was a veritable 'Who's Who' in the show business industry here at the Bronze. Hottest club in town, strictly "No Photographs". But there were always a couple that managed to sneak past the guards. Even here, where they were supposed to relax, you had to be on your guard. And speaking of…

"What are you losers doing here so late?"

"Nice to see you too, Cordy." Cordelia Chase slid into a seat at the table, flanked by two massively beefy men in black suits and sunglasses.

"Aren't you out a tad late for a school night?" She asked, pointedly but not unkindly. Cordelia had always had the 'bitch' persona going on, but she was a sweet girl underneath. "Crowding!" She threw up her hands and both her bodyguards took a step backwards. The daughter of a high-ranking government official, her father was constantly paranoid that she would be attacked or abducted by his opponents or dissenters in the country. She was never seen without at least two guards.

"It's Buffy's parents' anniversary," Willow reminded her, "So we're all celebrating, then heading back for a sleepover at my place."

"Sounds delightfully juvenile," Cordy smiled brightly, then directed her attentions back on Buffy. "Now, Buffy. I'm holding a little get-together at the estate. No more than two hundred. I want the Watcher's Council there."

"Cordy, it's really not under my-"

"I can hook you up." She interrupted. "There's a rising star in the White House, and I will make him date you if I have to break his fingers. All you have to do is get Giles, Rayne and Pryce to my house before the media breaks in."

"Fine." Buffy sighed. There was no arguing with Cordelia when she set her mind to something. And plus, it couldn't hurt to have her influencing someone who might possibly become her boyfriend. It got pretty tired, walking the red carpet with one of her step-father's friends. And Cordy definitely had the power to bend whoever she had in mind to her will. "I'll do my best."  
"You'll do it," Cordy corrected her, rising. "Great chatting." She strode off, bodyguards close in her wake.

"Hurricane Cordelia is now leaving the coast of Buffonia," Xander intoned in a meteorologist voice.

"Very funny," Buffy smiled at him. She could tell why the public (especially teenage girls) loved him. Attractive, witty, an all-around great guy to be around. If he wasn't one of her best friends in the whole world, she would probably date him. Except her was. She sighed, driven back into depression again. She was so happy that her mom was happily married now. It certainly didn't hurt that just being Rupert Giles' step-daughter made her a celebrity. But she had to admit, she was jealous of their relationship. Why couldn't she find a great guy who loved her that she could love?

"Bored now," Willow stretched again and yawned. "I'm getting kind of sleepy. Then again, being talked at by Cordy always wears me out."

"Should we head for la casa del Rosenberg?" Xander asked.

"Sure," Buffy shrugged. "We can watch a movie. What are you guys up for?"  
"Anything that I'm not in," Willow and Xander chorused immediately. Buffy laughed and the trio rose.

"Then we're off."


	2. Part 2

Red Carpet Romance

Part 2

Soundtrack: California, Phantom Planet (No, I do not watch The OC. I just like the song)

**Buffy rolled over and wrinkled her nose.** She was having a little trouble getting to sleep. The three friends had watched movies late into the night. Probably later than they should have, but no one was there to tell them otherwise. Ira and Sheila Rosenberg were, as usual, off in some exotic locale, most likely analyzing other cultures for a new psychology book. The only adult who was regularly at the Rosenberg house was Mr. Gregory, the butler. And he was much too proper to criticize the daughter of his bosses.

Buffy was just drifting off to sleep when she thought she heard footsteps. Had she just imagined it? No, there were definitely footsteps. _Probably just Gregory…_she thought. But it couldn't be. The steps were much too heavy to belong to the older and light-footed butler. And they seemed to be coming directly for her room.

Buffy pulled the covers close to her chin as the footsteps grew closer and closer. Who could it be? _A serial killer_ she thought feverishly, _he's already chopped poor Gregory into tiny pieces, and now he's coming for us._ She trembled beneath the vastly expensive sheets, frozen in terror. She tried to think of what she could do to defend herself, but there was nothing. The stepping stopped. Her door swung open.

Blocking the doorway was a large, muscular man in army fatigues. Her eyes widened as she recognized him even in the dark.

"Riley," she whispered.

"Hey there, Buff," he said with a wicked looking smile. "Long time no see."

"What are you doing here?"  
"Looking for you."  
"I told you I never wanted to see you again," she hissed.

"Yeah, well," his smile turned even darker, "I don't make a point of obeying little girls." Their eyes locked in fiery tension. Buffy felt her will dissolving, her mouth twitching. Finally she could hold it in no longer.

"I missed you so much!" She squealed, jumping out of bed and hurling herself into his arms.

"Missed you too, lil' sis." He lifted her off the ground in a bone-crushing embrace. She squeaked her lack of oxygen and he set her down, ruffling her hair affectionately. She smiled up at him with a sigh, then suddenly scowled fiercely. She smacked his arm.

"I hate you! Leaving me all alone to join the stupid army just so you could run around all day saving people's lives. You're so selfish."

"That doesn't mean you have to hit me," he complained, rubbing his arm. "That hurt."

"Oh, come on. You're big tough über-soldier-guy. You can handle the pain."

"Probably," he shrugged with another smile.

"Seriously Riley, why are you here? I thought you were-"  
"I've got a vacation. And before you ask," he held up a hand to keep her from asking the next question he knew was coming, "I went over to Mom's place first. She told me you were over here and instead of waiting till morning or doing something weird like calling you, I thought I'd come surprise you. Gregory let me in."

"It's so great you're here. How long do you have off?"

"Only a week or so, then I'm back on duty." He embraced her again, "So I have to spend every spare moment catching up with you, princess."

"Do I get to sleep first? I've had a long day," she said apologetically, eyes drooping.

"Whatever you want, Buffy. Whatever you want."

**Buffy walked back into her house, arm-in-arm with her older brother.** She had been so lonely when he decided to join the army two years ago. Now he was back, if only for a short time. As Riley closed the door, Buffy listened closely. She thought she head some voices coming from their main living room. Listening carefully, her eyes brightened as she recognized the voices. She took off sprinting down the hallway, sliding along expensive floors and nearly crashing into priceless antiques several times.

She reached the room and pulled open the door before skidding into the room.

"Uncle Ethan!" She hurdled the back of the sofa to land almost in the lap of the older man reclining there.

"Easy now, darling. The women of the world would go into mourning if anything should happen to me," Ethan Rayne smiled languidly, and Buffy pushed herself up to kiss his cheek. He wasn't really her uncle, but the 'Watcher's Council', as the media had dubbed them, were as close as family. She hopped to her feet and walked over to the man and woman sitting in the loveseat across the way.

"Hello Uncle Wesley. Aunt Fred." She embraced and kissed both Wesley Wyndam-Pryce and his long-time girlfriend and current fiancée, Winifred Burkle. Both were more reserved than her wild Uncle Ethan, but still just as fun. Aunt Fred was the only person Buffy knew who was not in any way connected to the media industry, except through Uncle Wes. A world-class physicist, she and Wesley had met while they were at college. However, it wasn't until two years after both graduated, when he was reintroduced to her by a musician friend of Ethan's, that he worked up the courage to ask her out. Buffy sighed internally as she took a seat back on the sofa, between Uncle Ethan and her parents. Yet another perfect and romantic love story.

"So, why is everyone gathered?" She asked, still grinning. Riley finally drifted into the room and greeted the others in it somewhat less enthusiastically than Buffy. He was older and calmer than his sister, and also less close to other members of America's most powerful media trio. Buffy had really bonded more with Fred, Wes and Ethan after Riley had left for the military.

"Well, we were just discussing a bit of business," Giles told her.

"Ooh, are we doing something exciting and new?" She asked, resting her chin on her hands, leaning forward in anticipation.

"I should say so," Wesley said smiling broadly, "you see, Buffy, there's a group of stars in the UK that are, how do you teens put it? 'Super hot'. They're, well, they're rather like you and your circle of friends. There are two movie stars, a model and a musician/filmmaker. We've been in talks to bring them over to America and make a sort of crossover."

"Sounds great," Buffy said with an honest smile. She loved it how her step-father and his friends always shared their planning and ideas with her whenever she was around in their meetings, instead of being shooed out like a kid.

"The thing is, we want to be able to have constant contact with them, and we're not sure where to put them."

"Oh," Buffy wrinkled her nose in thought. That was a dilemma. Giles cleared his throat.

"And that's why we actually wanted to talk with you, Buffy."

"Talk with me?"

"Well, we've been considering having them stay with us, to promote good relations. Now, there's no pressure and we certainly won't do it if you don't feel comfortable-"

"Are you kidding?" Buffy laughed. "I'd love it! I can introduce them all to my friends, and it will be great! How old are they?"

"A few years older than you," Giles said, looking relieved at her openness to the plan. He really hadn't been sure what he would do if she had said no. "Now, we just have to find a sort of 'coming out' event." A smile slowly spread across Buffy's face.

"I know the perfect thing."

_Author's Note: And that's part two! What do you think? I've gotten rather tired of 'Riley as the big dumb brute' in Spuffyfic, but I didn't want him to be with her so…I compromised. Any thoughts? Criticisms? Suggestions?_


	3. Part 3

Red Carpet Romance

Part 3

Soundtrack: Desert Rose, Sting

**Buffy wrung her hands together nervously.** She stood in front of her sprawling mansion home, waiting for the four guests to arrive.

_"There are two movie stars," Giles had briefed her, "Drusilla James and Liam Flannery. He goes by Angelus. There's the model, Darla Nest, and then William Collins. He's sort of an underground rock musician and an independent filmmaker. He likes to be called Spike. Now, Liam and Darla have been dating on-and-off for the past several years, and Drusilla and William have been together for about a year now. I'm really not sure what to expect. I haven't met any of them in person."_

Just great. He couldn't prepare her for the four people she had never met that she was going to invite into her home. She had toyed with the idea of going online to snoop the fan sites about them for a while, before deciding firmly against it. She knew better than most anyone how twisted stories on the internet could be. There were a fair share of 'interesting' stories about her.

She was brought back to the present by the crunch of gravel beneath tires as the limousine the Council had sent to pick up the foreign stars. It pulled to stop in front of her, and she could see her own face reflected in the darkened glass. The driver hopped out quickly and pulled open the door. The first one out was a man.

He was well-built with dark, gelled hair and a smirk. He was clad in leather pants and a dark, half-open shirt. He looked around him with his dark, intense eyes and Buffy could swear the smirk intensified. He held out a hand absentmindedly and a smaller hand took it. Out climbed a shorter blonde woman, who had a rather superior look on her face and a tight skirt and sweater. Next came another woman, with long dark hair and large, strange eyes. She wore all red, lacy and almost girlish in an odd way. The last one to emerge was a second man. He was slender, with white-blonde hair, bright blue eyes and prominent cheek bones. He wore all black, including a long leather duster which must have been uncomfortably hot in the California weather.

"Umm, hi. I'm Buffy Summers. It's nice to meet you." She held out her hand. The first man stepped forward.

"Liam Flannery, but you can call me Angelus." He took her hand, but instead of shaking it, he raised it to his lips and kissed it gently, eyes glittering. He sounded vaguely Irish.

"Darla Nest." The blonde woman said, crossing her arms, clearly not pleased with Angelus' behavior.

"I'm the princess of the night," the second woman said dreamily and she did a small twirl. "I've got stars wrapped all around me."

"That's Drusilla. I'm Spike." The last man answered Buffy's questioning look somewhat roughly, wrapping his arms around the strange woman, who giggled. Both of them had British accents.

"Well, I'll show you to your rooms." Buffy's smile was mostly forced now. These were some very strange people.

**"Hope you're not daydreaming about Angelus." **Buffy sat up in surprise and turned to see Spike standing on the patio, blowing a plume of smoke from his cigarette.

"What? Me? Daydream?"

"He's only trying to make Darla jealous. They're bickering again," he said, still not looking at her. "He's not actually interested in you."

"And I'm not interested in him," she lied back. She wasn't really interested…but she had entertained the image of appearing at Cordelia Chase's party on his arm. He was definitely a very attractive man.

"Course not." Spike snickered and stubbed out his cigarette. "And I like to watch reality television."

"Well, excuse me Mr. Smarty-Pants, I-"

"Mr. Smarty-Pants?" He asked, eyebrows arched. She noticed he had a scar through one of them. "Are we in primary school, Miss Summers?" Buffy struggled to think of a witty retort. Something that would wipe the smirk right off his smug British face. But she came up empty.

"Shut up."

"Now that hurt," he rubbed his chest in mock pain, a smarmy grin plastered onto his face, "don't think I could survive another biting insult like that, love." Buffy crossed her arms with a sniff and gazed out over the garden, where she could see Angelus and Darla sitting on a bench.

"Why do you call him Angelus?" She asked, not really expecting a straight answer.

"With looks like that, combined with the puppy-dog parts he gets," Spike stared out at the couple as well, eyes unreadable. "Lot of girls think he's an angel. Couldn't be more wrong. That right there's the devil if I ever saw him." Buffy stared spellbound at the man Spike called the devil. He didn't seem like a devil to her. Except of the "handsome" variety. Spike glanced over at her seriousness and a grin spread across his face. "Bloody brilliant at a party, though."

"You!" She batted his arm indignantly and he laughed at her.

"Seriously though," he sobered up and looked back at Angelus and Darla who were now kissing rather heatedly, "he can be a monster. Real heartbreaker. If I were you, I'd be bloody sure not to get moony over Angelus."

"Well, you're not me. So don't boss me around," she raised her nose into the air defiantly, but it only made him laugh again.

"You're too much, Goldilocks."

_Author's Note: Yeah, shorter chapter, but I want the whole party to be in one part. Reviews make the world go 'round so…you know what to do._


End file.
